


Gryffindor Vs. Slytherin

by FantasticNumberNine



Series: John Watson and the Philosopher's Stone [6]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen, Hagrid can't keep secrets, Only one snape, Quidditch match, Well - Freeform, and Mycroft is too smart for anyone's good, broom jinxing, flaming snapes, gryffindor vs slytherin, sorta - Freeform, woot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-07
Updated: 2014-07-07
Packaged: 2018-02-07 22:20:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1915992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FantasticNumberNine/pseuds/FantasticNumberNine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the day of John's first ever quidditch match, and he's more excited than he can say. But it's not all sunshine and snitches, something's gone wrong with his broom! Lucky he's got good friends, and luckier still Hagrid let's slip some useful information regarding the three-headed-dog in the out-of-bounds third floor corridor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gryffindor Vs. Slytherin

**Author's Note:**

> I decided yes on quidditch--giving this a bit more in-your-face plot substance... 
> 
> *this is my new favorite playground*

Saturday morning dawned bright and clear, but John sat at the Gryffindor table staring at his plate--empty--and fidgeting restlessly. Greg and Mycroft sat on either side of him, Greg just as jittery as John and Mycroft calmly reading the paper as though Gryffindor wouldn't be facing off against Slytherin later in the first quidditch match of the season. 

Greg appeared to be directing a match of his own with a handful of cereal scattered across his plate and John would occasionally make to stand up before dropping back down and twisting his napkin. Eventually, Mycroft sighed and folded up his copy of the Daily Prophet and turned to face his friends.

"Didn't your mother teach you to _not_ play with your food, Gregory?"

"Keep calling me that, and I'll show you playing with food," Greg replied lightly.

Giving up on reasoning with Greg, Mycroft put a slice of toast and some bacon on John's plate, and filled his glass with pumpkin juice. "Eat, or you'll fall off your broom."

John blinked at him. "Is that your way of being encouraging?"

"It's my way of saying I don't particularly care for sport of any kind, but would rather not see my friend make a fool of himself in front of the entire school because he couldn't be arsed to eat any breakfast."

A bit of cereal masquerading as a quaffle flew across the table as Greg dropped his spoon and both he and John stared at Mycroft. 

"Did you just say _arsed_?"

Mycroft ignored them, refilling his own glass and pointing imperiously at John's plate, "Eat."

The stands were full, three quarters of the school out to support Gryffindor. John's grip on his new Nimbus 2000 had turned his knuckles white and he hardly heard a word of Oliver Wood's pre-match pep talk. Greg's twin brothers patted him on the back, and the team streamed out onto the pitch to meet Madame Hooch and the Slytherins. The captains shook hands, and then the game was on!

John could live up in the air--it was an absolute rush, and quidditch was better than any sport he'd ever had the chance to watch.

Gryffindor took the lead quickly, their chasers outclassed Slytherin's with ease, and with Fred and George Lestrade as their beaters, Slytherin had a difficult time keeping possession of the quaffle. John circled above searching for the tell-tale glint of the snitch, cheering every time a red robed player scored.

There! He spurned his Nimbus into action, flying through the air at a dizzying speed towards the snitch, hovering near the the Gryffindor hoops, he reached out his hand and--his broom jerked upwards and he was nearly flung right off, what had just happened--his broom bucked again, and then twitched violently to the left. He had completely lost control of his broom!

In the stands, Greg was shouting for a timeout and creatively accusing the Slytherins of cheating beside Hagrid, who had come to watch the match with them and was just as excitable as Greg. 

"It looks like John's lost control of his broom, that's not like him..."

Mycroft scanned the stadium quickly, his gaze freezing on Professor Snape.

"Professor Snape is jinxing John's broom."

"--That's my best mate up there, if somebody could bloody--what? _Snape_? What do we do?"

"You stay put. Keep shouting if it makes you feel better."

"Oi!"

But Mycroft had ducked away, running across to the teacher's section and sneaking between the rows and behind Snape, jostling Professor Quirrel, who fell over backwards, and muttering a quick apology before discreetly setting fire to the back of Professor Snape's robes and walking away quietly. 

In the air, John's broom stilled and he, slowly, made his way down to the grass, tumbling off his broom to his knees when his feet touched the ground. He looked a bit ill and ready to throw up the bit of breakfast Mycroft had manipulated him into eating; instead, he coughed up a glittering golden ball into his palms. He couldn't believe it, he'd caught the snitch! 

"I've got it! I caught the snitch!"

The match ended in total confusion, and John joined Greg and Mycroft at Hagrid's.

"It was Snape, Mycroft saw him jinxing your broom!" Greg said fiercely. 

"Nonsense! Why would Snape try and curse John's broom?"

John traded glances with Greg and Mycroft, "We think he tried to steal whatever it is that three-headed-dog is guarding on the third floor, and got bit on Halloween."

Hagrid gaped, "You've seen Fluffy?"

" _Fluffy_?"

"He's mine, bought him off a Greek chappie I met in a pub last year. I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the..." Hagrid froze.

"To guard the what?" John asked.

"Never mind that, no more questions! It's top secret!"

"But Snape's gonna try and steal it--"

"Nonsense, Snape is a Professor at Hogwarts--"

"Who attempted to kill John," Mycroft cut in. 

"You're wrong, I don't know what happened with John's broom, but Snape wouldn't try and kill a student! Now listen to me, all three of ye'. You're meddlin' in things you ought not to be meddlin' in and it's dangerous. Forget about Fluffy and what he's guardin'. It's between Professor Dumbledore and Nicholas Flamel..."

John jumped up, "So there's a Nicholas Flamel involved?"

Hagrid looked furious with himself and the boys left quickly.

"Right," Greg started. "Who's Nicholas Flamel?"

John shrugged, "Absolutely no idea."

"How the two of you plan on getting through six and a half more years of school, _I_ have no idea."

Greg grinned, "We depend entirely on you, Myc, our future is in your hands."

Mycroft rolled his eyes, "Don't call me that."

"Or what?"

"Or I won't help you with your homework anymore--"

"But Myc--"

"I warned you--"

"Hey! Nicholas Flamel?"

Mycroft huffed, brushing imaginary lint off his robes. "Nicholas Flamel is a legendary alchemist."

John looked at Greg then back at Mycroft, "And that means...?"

Mycroft pinched the bridge of his nose. "He's known in the muggle world as the man who created a mythical gem that could turn any metal into gold and produce an elixir that would render the drinker immortal." 

He paused, in John's opinion, entirely for effect. 

"It's called the Philosopher's Stone."

**Author's Note:**

> ...so they figure it out a bit quicker than Harry, Hermione, and Ron do... 
> 
> Like Mycroft hadn't previously read books about alchemy--he was an oddball child who did bizarre "accidental" magic. Of course he was looking into vaguely plausible forms of magic disguised as science. 
> 
> :)


End file.
